Authors: Max Feinstein
“Our scientists proposed that the damage could have been done by a massive radiation storm. Of course such a thing would only be possible if something happened to the Frontiera primary, but would explain why we have not been able to contact the system. A storm of such magnitude would have disabled or destroyed any communication systems on the planet and could have possibly dama
ged the ships present in-system,” the admiral continued, while watching the faces of the people in the room.
“With the Gate active, a
drone was deployed from Athenia. We lost contact with the drone shortly after it initiated its flight to Frontiera. Preliminary scans relieved nothing out of the ordinary, however, but contact with any Federation units was still not achieved. We instructed the drone to close on the planet in order to investigate further, which is when we lost contact. What we didn’t detect, though,” Xwai paused again, knowing what would happen, “was the presence of any Federation Naval vessels or civilian transports.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying this could have been a deliberate a
ttack against the Federation?” General Reverton’s deep voice resounded across the room as he leaned forward at his table.
“At the moment I am in no position to confirm
nor rule out that possibility,” Admiral Lin responded, “it is too soon to jump to the speculation of an attack, however. Everything could be explained by a celestial anomaly.”
“Yes, but what if is an attack? What if it’s
… Them?” exclaimed the Marine General Sturnvitz.
With that question the whole room seemed to erupt with everyone voicing their opinions at once,
forcing Xwai to raise his voice, “gentlemen! Ladies! Please, calm yourselves. We have no evidence to support that the Odyssians had anything to do with Frontiera. Even if they are out there, they have left us alone for almost half a century, why would they attack now?”
He took a deep breath to calm himself just a little and let the thought sink in for the others
. His mission here was to exert and reestablish his control over these men and women in order for them to carry out their orders without question.
“Even so I want you to deploy
NTG 251.3 to Frontiera and figure out what really happened. If this was just a natural occurrence they will provide support. However, if in fact this is a first encounter, they will be tasked with establishing communications until a diplomatic team can arrive.”
“Has Premier
Ostenberg been made aware of these happenings?” came the question from Tokumo, silencing the room as he leaned forward on his elbows, cradling his chin in his hand.
Silence grew over the entire conference room before Xwai broke it, in a stern voice
, “of course she has. The Premier issued the orders herself and she will monitor the entire situation.”
These words and assura
nces came through a tight and masked almost expressionless face.
“And
what if our ships encounter hostiles? 251.3 is scheduled for decommissioning and is barely at half strength. Let us at least send one of the other task groups,” Ba’ash broke the tension surrounding the situation.
“
I happen to agree Admiral, but the Premier has made her wishes very clear on the subject and all I can do is follow orders, just like all of you here. She feels that a less threatening approach would be better for a first encounter and that Commodore Jonstan is experienced enough in the diplomatic arts to initiate contact. If hostilities do occur, Jonstan is to initiate a full strategic withdrawal,” Xwai responded with just a hint of contempt for the supposed orders he was issuing. Just enough to make them all believe everything that he was telling them.
The heads of command all seemed to turn away from Xwai at the same time and began to converse together. As they discussed what they had just heard and planned their next course of action, the Armed Services Chief sat back down into the large chair, letting it automatically adjust to his posture and help alleviate some of the bone pain that had started to present from all the standing. His ear implants adjusted to the others quiet voices and allowed him to experience everything they were debating among themselves. It was of no surprise that they were
unhappy with the orders, but had little choice than to agree with him on all accounts. In the end they would do what he ordered of them. Everything was starting to take shape just how he had envisioned it.
He was also listening for any mention of
the garrison at Kapricara. Like Frontiera, the planet had been colonized during the Odyssian Cold War military buildup and had been built up as a frontline garrison world. It was located on the lower edge of the Fringe Sector, opposite to its sister planet Frontiera, which had been established at the northern most edge of the sector. What no one outside a selective few knew, however, was that shortly after Frontiera ceased responding Kapricara had dropped off MilNet and FedCON as well. Admiral Lin had made sure that all transmissions and inquiries about the planet went through his Athena office instead of being relayed directly to Tesagia Command or TESCOM. This ability to control all relevant information allowed him to keep the occurrence a secret, at least for the moment.
When all of commanding officers f
inally grew quiet and turned back towards the Admiral, he knew that his covert operation had been a success. General Reverton sat up straight as the groups spokesman and expressed their consensus.
“As a precaution I want to initiate a call up of all active duty personnel and start getting reserves ready for possible active status. We have to be ready in case this is an actually assault against the Fringe Sector.”
“The Navy must also prepare for the worst case scenario,” Admiral Kolhov chimed in on behalf of the Fringe Naval Forces.
Xwai looked over all the faces looking back at him, while leaning back into his comfortable seat and took a breath as if he was thinking hard on the matter
, “very well, I concur with your assessments. It is better to be prepared then get caught with our pants down, right?”
He could almost feel the tension in the room decline before he continued
, “however, I want this limited to the Fringe Sector only. Make it look like a large scale exercise. Reservist activation will only be limited to Tesa. I don’t want this getting out and panicking people into thinking something is going wrong. You may also inform the local police departments that they could be included in the emergency exercise as well.”
Each of the others looked at each other for a second, letting the limitation just imposed on them sink in. When none voiced an objection the compromise was deemed to be acceptable by all and Admiral Sharikki turned back to Xwai with a small nod of resignation.
“Very well, sir, if you think that is for the best we will carry out your orders as you state them. I shall have Admiral Kolhov inform CTG 251.3 of its new mission,” he turned to look at Nikoli sitting beside him.
Deck plating reverberated slightly under her feet, letting Commodore Rebeka Jonstan know that her ship was finally underway and pulling away from Naval Station Yakovski, the largest of its kind within the Fringe Sector, to which it had been moored to for the past three days. Rebeka let out a soft sigh as she looked down into her open palm, in which a small holographic image existed. A smiling man, flanked on each side by two smiling kids, a boy and a girl, were all waving up at her happily. She couldn’t help but smile at their beautiful faces and reached over with her other hand to trace a finger slowly over the two children.
This was supposed to be the start of her six month leave after almost a year of deployment throughout the Fringe Sector. They had all even
planned a long family vacation and she had been looking forward to being with the kids for longer than a few days, but such was the life of a Federation Navy Commodore. Growing up with a father admiral should have prepared her for this. It had been her life as a child, the moving, the waiting, the broken promises. Like a fool she thought it would be different with her own family, that somehow she would make it all work, but when the navy calls you have to come running, there is no other way.
This better
not be a hoax or I’m coming for you Nikoli.
Rebeka thought as she made a fist and held back the tears swelling in her eyes, while reliving the sadness on her little angels faces as she told them that mommy couldn’t make it home to see them like she had promised. When asked about the extended deployment, it was one of the few times that Commodore Jonstan did not have to lie to her family, she simply wasn’t made aware of the full extent of her new mission. All she and her fine crew knew was that they would reform the task group and make for Frontiera in order to assist the planet with some communication problems they were experiencing and that she should use all possible diplomatic protocols if the need arose. That last order had caught her completely off guard and got her mind racing through all the different scenarios they might encounter on the other side of the Transit Gate.
What the Commodore couldn’t fully understand was why her task group had been selected for the mission.
Her flagship, the FNV
Federation
, and its group had only just arrived in-system a few days ago after their last tour, which should have been the last ever deployment for the ships as a whole. The fact was that no ship in the entire
Federation
task group was younger than 45 years of age, with most actually having over fifty years of service within their hulls. As such they were all well beyond their designated service life and should have been decommissioned and recycled years ago. Cuts in the UPF defense budget, however, had deemed it necessary for the navy to prolong its general replacement cycle considerably and make do with the hulls they had available. Only so much can be accomplished through upgrade and refurbishment programs, in order to prolong the lifespan of a ship, before the building of a new vessel was more cost effective than maintaining an aging one. That time, long overdue, had finally arrived for the
Federation
and her various escorts.
Now Admiral Kolhov once more promised her that
after the completion of this mission, it would truly be their last in the aging ships. He also assured her that their next assignments would be many months from now and on newly constructed vessels. Why was her group so important, though, thought Rebeka as she stared at the floating picture in her palm. Nothing about this mission seemed to make sense to the experienced Naval Officer of over thirty years. Command would never send a task group into harm’s way with just a skeleton crew, would they? They had done just that, however, even with the knowledge that most of her assigned crew had already departed Tesagia for their leave. The only crew that had remained with the ships had been their commanding officers, bridge crews, and a small number of security and engineering crews. These personnel had been overseeing the preparations necessary for transferring a naval vessel to contractors which would take the ships on their final journey to the recycle yards.
“Approaching designated THP, ma’am. Escorts are forming up nicely
,” reported Captain Warthington Stewart, Rebeka’s XO or executive officer, and punched through the deafening silence that had hung over the bridge from the moment they had left NS Yakovski.
Rebeka couldn’t help but register the slight hint of anger and resent in the captain’s voice. There was no way she could blame him for those feelings; heck she felt the same way, as did the entire crew or what remained of it. Even the youngest member of the crew knew that there were at least a half dozen naval task groups in the Tesa System at any given time that hadn’t just come back from a long tour of duty and could have handled this assignment. These very
same task groups were also completely crewed and better armed than the aging
Federation
group, so it was a mystery as to why HQ would insist on Rebeka’s group taking on this mission in such a fashion. It wasn’t any of their places to ask why, however, it was their duty to follow any given orders to the best of their abilities. And Rebeka knew that a lack of moral could sink even the simplest of missions, her father had drilled that into her from the moment she started officer training. As the commanding officer of this operation it was her duty to keep the crews confidence high and emotions in check.
With those thoughts floating to the top of her mind Commander Jonstan shut down the image in her hand, with a flick of her thumb, and looked up at the bridge situated in front of her.
“What’s wrong Captain? You were never this eager to get home to that wife of yours before or is she ready to forgive all those little…indiscretions of yours?” Rebeka let out a small grin as she looked over at her ship’s captain and listened to the bridge crew softly snicker in laugher, trying not to laugh at Captain Stewart’s misfortune.
Warthington looked up from his station quickly at the laugher and let his stern expression wash over the bridge crew before laughing himself, shaking his head slowly.
“Was just looking forward to catching the G-ball finals this week. Stencia was supposed to perform during the game,” he looked over at Rebeka and gave her a quick wink before getting back towards the displays at the front of bridge.
“A SimChair is as close as you’ll ever get to her Captain.”
Rebeka gave a laugh and felt some of the tension on the bridge ease. She
slowly gazed over the entire bridge, which had been shrunk even more in this class of carriers than the ones that had come before as more and more systems were turned over to the ever capable newer generation of Ship Management Systems. The SMS was technically a restricted artificial intelligence program, this particular one called DIA by the crew, was similar to those used to help manage entire planets. This one, though, was tailored to help improve the efficiency of combat naval vessels. It was designed with the ability of running the entire ship automatically, from piloting to actually engaging in armed conflicts. Those functions were highly restricted, however, and could only be bestowed by the ship’s commanding officer in times of distress. This system had over the years cut down the crew requirement on all UPF ships. Ships that had taken thousands of crew members to run had that number cut down to hundreds, while other ships would be run at a fraction of that.
Rebeka looked over each of the
twelve bridge stations, separated into four groups of three stations each and arranged in a sort of arrow shape towards the front. At the rear of this “arrow” was the commanding officer’s station, which contained a holographic projector, allowing for better tactical decision making. As she gazed forward from her command seat, Rebeka could see space unfold outside her ship. The further they got from Tesagia the darker space became around them. In the distance she could make out certain points of light moving across her view, probably transports moving between the planets in the solar system.
Movement
in her peripheral vision caused Commodore Jonstan to turn to her left, following the curved display wall that surrounded the entire bridge. Being within the central structure of the ship, the bridge was kept as safe as possible from battle damage. All information was piped into it from sensors around the ship, which included a large collection of camera and electro-optical arrays. These feeds could be projected all around the bridge, as was the case now, with the whole 360 degree view of the space surrounding the
Federation
being displayed.
As Rebeka watched, the familiar double hulled
H shape of one of the group’s Ridge class frigates moved into view from below the carrier. The older frigate, in this case the
Hinkley
, was quickly recognizable by a unique design that featured two horizontal parallel hulls of equal length connected at the middle by a two-third length thinner hull section, containing the ship’s bridge and crew quarters. On the display the almost two hundred meter long escort seemed close enough to touch and the image so clear that Rebeka didn’t even have to strain to see the long rows of triangular vertical launch cell covers that stitched the length of each side hull. Dotting the
Hinkley’s
exterior were also laser projectors and Plasma pulse cannons for close range self-defense. At the front, however, set inside each of the side hulls was a single G2 rail cannon, for long range bombardments. Even though the Ridge class was considered to be obsolete these days, they still had the teeth to fight back if need be.
Within seconds only the rear of the frigate was visible, with just a pair of glowing rectangular thruster nozzles pulsing softly in the surrounding darkness as the ship maneuvered into formation. Looked towards the opposite side of the bridge Rebeka witnessed her second frigate escort doing the same on the starboard side. The activity around the carrier didn’t stop there, however, when an overlaid image appeared on the forward display screen. There, right over the view of the forward section of the
Federation,
an outline of a large vessel materialized. This vessel was almost three times larger than the Ridge class frigate and featured an angled, boxy front while slowly widening towards the rear.
Slowly the
Saber class heavy cruiser eased through the carrier’s shadow and the entire bridge crew turned to watch the large ship emerge from below the
Federation
as it accelerated to take up a point position in front of the carrier. Everyone went back to work as soon as the
Dao
’s four rear engine pods became visible. Rebeka ran her hand through her black regulation shoulder length hair, knowing that that position should have been taken up by one the group’s destroyers. Unfortunately that ship had suffered the serious reactor failure weeks before and could no longer join them. She hated taking on a mission when not in full strength, but with most of her crews gone, it was turning into the kind of day where things just never went your way.
“
Dao, Hinkley,
and
Grainger
have taken up their positions.” Captain Stewart called out after a few minutes. “The
Olstaburg
reports ready from the rear and Captain Alokow is in route with our fighters.”
Commodore Jonstan smiled slightly and nodded as she leaned back into her chair while gazing out through the forward display. Everything seemed to be coming together now with her remaining destroyer taking up rear guard and her fighter wing flying back to their mothership. She knew that they weren’t coming back alone either, as Admiral Kolhov had graciously assigned them a squadron of
ten new Cyclone class interceptors for this mission. It was always better to go into the unknown with forty fighter craft than thirty.
“Very well Mr. Stewart. What are our ETAs?” Inquired Rebeka, while still looking out towards the stars beyond.
“Five minutes on the THP and around two for our squadrons, ma’am. We are waiting for an incoming convoy to clear the Gate.”
At the reply a hologram projection appeared in front of Rebeka and resolved quickly to show the relevant data that her mind requested. Her carrier appeared at the center surrounded by its escorts and zoomed back quickly until four tightly packed diamonds could be visible moving towards the task group. The diamonds were the standard symbols used to represent a squadron of fighter craft. Zooming out even further, the task group shrank, but a large structure appeared directly in front
. Around the Transit Gate marker appeared a couple of other vessels that orbited the gate in a sort of holding pattern, naval corvette type ships assigned to watch over the Gate and any ships that move through it.
A quick thought later the image disappeared and Rebeka leaned forward in her seat, hands resting on her thighs as she gazed out towards the front of the bridge once more. What had shown empty space and three sets of pulsing thruster banks instantly changed to a growing view of a massive construct. It hung in space like some unfinished project
, with girders and what appeared to be scaffolding all around its wide rectangular structure, but unlike a true rectangle, the edges were rounded. The top also extended behind the front further than the lower half and extended upwards like a curved dorsal fin on a fish.